Called To Duty
by Greaserfreak
Summary: It's been three months since the end of 'Make My Car Tuff'. Now Steve is eighteen and gets sent to Vietnam to fight in the war. Still in Steve's POV
1. Chapter 1

Summary: It's been three months since the end of 'Make My Car Tuff'. Now, Steve is eighteen and gets sent over to Vietnam to fight in the war. Still in Steve's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

It had been three months since my father's trial where the judge had declared me a legal adult even though I was still seventeen. Now, I was eighteen and still staying with the Curtises. I'd been working full time at the DX station so I could start saving money to get my own apartment.

"Ready for another day of work in this heat?" George asked me as we both walked out of the office located at the back of the station. It was early summer and the heat was almost unbearable. Especially when working on cars. Soda and I both had sunburns on our arms and faces that would eventually become tans and Soda's hair was already lighter from the sun.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," I replied. "Of course, I can always work on a car in the garage. It's a little cooler in there."

"Not much," George told me. "The fan we have in there just blows the hot air around. But if you want to work in there, go ahead. I'll stay out here and help the customers."

I watched as George walked to the gas pumps where a customer had just pulled up. Then taking a rag out of my back pocket, I wiped the sweat that had started to trickle down my face away as I walked into the garage. George was right about the fan only blowing the hot air around. It was almost as hot in the garage as it was outside. I moved the fan closer to the car that was waiting to be loked at so that I'd have some air blowing on me as I worked but it provided very little relief.

"Gosh it's hot," I looked up from under the hood of the car and found Ponyboy walking towards me. Normally Ponyboy doesn't come to the DX station if Soda isn't working so I was surprised to see him there.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, wiping more sweat from my face.

"I was walking to the movie house because there's air conditioning there and stopped here for a Pepsi. George told me to give you one, too," Ponyboy said, handing me a cold bottle of the soda. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "I also came to give you this. I thought you might want to read it right away."

I took the envelope from him and held it in my hand. Even before I opened it, I knew what it contained. I had seen classmates at school with identical envelpoes, showing them to their friends with a mix of emotions flashing across their faces. Now as I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, I knew that my life was about to change.

"Well, this is the highlight of my day," I mumbled sarcastically as I put the letter back into the envelpoe and put it in my back pocket. Then I leaned against the car and shook my head in disbelief even though I knew the letter was very real.

"It's not good, is it?" Ponyboy asked. He was finishing his Pepsi as he put an elbow on the car.

"That depends on how you look at it," I replied, adding, "I thought you were going to the movie house."

"I am," Ponyboy said. "You know, I heard Randy burned his. He's a hippie now or something."

"Isn't that the kid who was friends with that soc Johnny killed?" I asked.

Ponyboy nodded. "But he doesn't look like a soc anymore. His hair is longer than mine."

I looked at Ponyboy's hair which had finally grown out from getting bleached last fall when he was in Windrixville with Johnny. It was looking almost like it used to and I knew he was happy about it because he hated the bleached hair. He also hated the haircuts Darry made him get while it was growing out.

"Well, I'm going to go now," Ponyboy told me as he started to walk away. "I'll see you back at the house."

I didn't reply as Ponyboy walked out of the garage. Instead, I tried to go back to working on the car, but images from the nightly news kept filling my mind. Images that would soon become a reality because contained in the envelope in my back pocket was a draft notice. I was being sent to fight in Vietnam.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're going to Vietnam?" Soda asked me later that evening. "When?"

"I leave in two weeks," I answered. I had just told Soda, Darry, and Two-Bit about the draft notice. All three of them had just sat in silence, looking at me until Soda broke the silence with his question.

"Two weeks? That's not a lot of time," Soda said.

"No, it's not," I agreed.

"Maybe they'll have you go through boot camp first," Darry suggested. "You might not actually be in Vietnam for another couple months."

"I wouldn't count on it," Two-Bit said seriously. "I hear they're desperate for men over there."

"Two-Bit, why haven't you received a draft notice?" Ponyboy asked, walking into the living room from the bedroom.

"Shoot, I don't know kid," Two-Bit said with a shrug. "Maybe they don't want to risk ruining my good looks.'

"Or maybe they don't want to risk you getting everyone killed because of your constant wise cracks," I commented.

"I wasn't drafted either," Darry pointed out.

"Yeah, but you could have been if mom and dad hadn't been killed in that car wreck," Soda said. "Instead, you got stuck with me and Pony."

Darry grinned as he hugged both of his brothers. "And I would do it all over again if I had to."

I took in everything that was happening around me. Two-bit was yelling answers at the contestants on a game show that was on the television. Every answer he yelled was wrong. Darry had turned his attention to the crossword puzzle in the paper. While Soda and Ponyboy playfully argued over who would wash the dishes and who would put them away. It was a typical evening at the Curtis' home. One I wouldn't be a part of for much longer.

"Darry, I'm going to go for a walk, okay?" Ponyboy walked back into the living room several minutes later and I could hear the sound of Soda putting the dishes away in the kitchen.

"Don't be out late," Darry said.

"I won't," Ponyboy sighed as he opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

I remained where I was sitting for a minute before I stood up and went outside myself. I noticed that Ponyboy was already half way down the block and I started to jog so I could catch up with him.

"Pony, wait!" I called as I jogged.

Ponyboy stopped and turned around. He looked a little surprised to see me running after him. I guess he still had this idea that I didn't like him. Which was never true. Sure, I got annoyed when he used to tag along with Soda and me, but that didn't mean I didn't like him.

"Wouldn't you rather be with Soda?" Pony asked once I reached him. "I mean, you will be leaving in two weeks."

We started to walk in silence so I could catch my breath.

"That's why I came out here," I finally answered.

Ponyboy looked at me, waiting for me to continue.

"I might be gone for a long time," I said.

"I know," Pony replied.

"I won't be here for Soda's birthday in October," I continued, remembering all the things Soda and i had looked forward to since we were kids. Once we turned sixteen, we couldn't wait to turn eighteen.

"You don't think he'll get drafted, too, do you?" Ponyboy asked softly.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But that's why I want to talk to you. You write a lot, right?"

Ponyboy shrugged and nodded.

"Well, I'm sure Soda will send me letters when I first get to Vietnam," I said. "However, I think we both know that he could also end up in Vietnam. If he does, would you write to me and let me know how he's doing?"

"Steve, I would have done that even if you didn't ask," Pony replied. "I know how close you two are."

I sighed as we walked past the spot where we had found Johnny just over a year ago after some socs had jumped him. I had felt sick when I saw how badly he was beaten. Now, I was just weeks away from seeing worse things.

"You don't think you or Soda could..." Ponyboy's voice trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking because I had been thinking the same thing.

"I don't know, Pony," I said. "I wish I could promise that I will come back and Soda too if he does get drafted. But I don't know if that's a promise I can keep. Maybe we'll both come back and will go on with our lives. Maybe one will make it and the other won't. Maybe neither of us will return."

"No," Ponyboy whispered.

I put a hand on his shoulder. Just like I would have if Pony was at risk of being drafted and I was having the same conversation with Soda. The kid was trying not to cry, but a few tears escaped anyway.

"Hey, things could turn out okay," I said gently.

"I hope so," Ponyboy sighed. "We've already lost mom and dad. I'm not sure if Darry and I could go on if we lost Soda, too."

"Then there's Johnny and Dally," I added, knowing Ponyboy was thinking of them, too.

"If we lose you, Two-bit will be the only member of the gang left that isn't a Curtis," Ponyboy continued. "It seems as if everyone close to me is being taken away. It's not fair."

"No, it's not," I agreed. And it wasn't. The kid never asked to lose his parents in an auto wreck or to watch his best friend and another friend die on the same night. Now he knew he could lose one or two more people that he was close to and one of those people was Soda. I knew that Johnny's death had hit Pony hard. I didn't want to imagine how Ponyboy would be if Soda went to Vietnam and never returned home alive. The kid would be a wreck.

"I hope you come back, Steve," Pony said after a minute. "I hope Soda comes back too, if he also gets drafted."

"Me too," I said. "I'll write and let you all know what's going on while I'm away."

Ponyboy grinned at me. "You better write. I don't want to be the only one sending one letters."

I grinned back at him. "Come on, let's go back to your place."

"In a few minutes," Pony told me. "I want to watch the sunset."

"I'll watch with you," I said, looking toward the west where the sun was starting to set.

"If you ever feel lonely when you're in Vietnam," Pony said to me as we watched the sun slowly disappear, "always remember that the sun you see over there is the same sun that is here in Tulsa."

"Even if the sunset looks different?" I asked.

Ponyboy nodded. "And if Soda gets drafted, I'll tell him the same thing."

We started to walk back to his place then. Neither of us spoke as we walked back to the house. However, I had a feeling that the relationship between Ponyboy and myself would change drastically over the next year or so. I just wasn't sure how drastic that change would be.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks later, I got a ride from Darry to where a bus was supposed to pick me and a bunch of other people up. Soda, Ponyboy and Two-Bit all came along to say good-bye and to watch me leave.

"You have everything you need, right?" Darry asked.

"You take the guardian role way to seriously," Soda teased him.

"Yes, I have everything," I said as we got out of the truck. As I took my suitcase from the back of the truck, I looked at the people who were also there to leave for Vietnam. Some of them I recognized from school. Others were older. But everyone was there for the same reason.

"Well, I guess this is it," Two-Bit said.

"I guess so," I replied.

"Try to stay safe," Darry told me.

"I will," I promised as I turned to Soda and Ponyboy. "Don't forget to write to me."

"I won't," Soda and Ponyboy answered at the same time.

"And I'll continue to write if Soda gets drafted," Ponyboy said, remembering our agreement. He stepped forward and gave me a hug. Surprised because I had been expecting Soda to be the first one to hug me, I hugged him back. "Take care, Steve."

"Keep Soda out of trouble, okay?" I said as we broke apart. Ponyboy grinned and nodded as Two-Bit took his turn to give me a hug. "No wise cracks?"

"I can't believe you're really going," Two-Bit said. "There's almost no gang left."

"THat's not true," I told him. "I might be going away, but I'm still part of the gang."

"Let me know if you meet any cute blond nurses," Two-Bit told me. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Here's my address. You can write to me or give it out to the nurses."

I laughed as I took the paper from him and put it in my own pocket.

"It looks like they're getting ready to load the bus," Darry said as he also hugged me. "It's going to be strange not having you around the house."

"You're probably glad to have the couch again," I commented.

Darry grinned. "I'm sure Two-Bit or even Tim will make use of it while you're gone. Return home safely, okay?"

I nodded silently as I turned back to Soda. In the twelve years that we had been friends we had only had to leave each other a few times and it was never for more than a week or two. Now, we wouldn't see each other for a year or more, and that's if we saw each other again.

"I can't believe that we have to say good-bye," Soda said.

"When we're done with the war, we're still going to own our own garage, right?" I asked.

"It'll be the best garage in town," Soda told me. "And we'll have George work with us."

"You'll let me know if you get drafted, right?" I asked.

Soda nodded. "And I'll remind Pony to write to both of us. i want to know what's going on with you, too."

"It's time to go on the bus, Steve," Darry interrupted.

I closed my eyes as I hugged Soda. Tears that I had been holding back started to fall as I felt Soda's shoulders shaking from his own crying. "I'll miss you, buddy."

"I'll miss you too," Soda whispered then he let me go and gave me a sad grin. "You better go. If you don't, they might get desperate and take Two-Bit instead."

I picked up my suitcase and walked to the bus. Someone took the suitcase from me as I got on the bus and I found a seat next to a window. The Curtises and Two-Bit were still standing where I had left them. Soon, I felt the bus start to move and I waved out the window as the bus slowly pulled out of the parking lot.

The others waved back and I noticed that Soda had taken off his shoes, leaving on only a pair of jeans and A black t-shirt that showed off his tanned arms. I don't know why I wanted to look at Soda one last time as I left to go to Vietnam, but I did. For some reason, I thought it was important.

"Can I sit here?"

I shrugged as a young man not much older than me sat down and looked at me.

"My name's Joe. What's yours?" He asked, holding out his hand.

"I'm Steve," I replied as I shook his hand.

"You got drafted too, huh?" Joe watched as I nodded. "Yeah, I had to leave my wife and newborn son behind. I have pictures."

Joe pulled out his wallet and handed me a small pile of pictures. He continued to talk, but I wasn't really listening as I looked at the pictures of his baby. The baby looked like him with the blue eyes and dimpled chin. I couldn't tell about the hair because the baby didn't appear to have any while Joe's was brown and short.

"He looks like you, I said as I handed the pictures back to Joe.

Joe grinned with pride. "What about you? Do you have any kids?"

"I hope not," I said with a laugh. "I just turned eighteen a month ago. I'm not ready for kids yet. Although I would like to have two or three when I'm older."

Joe continued to tell me about his wife and son. He talked for most of the bus ride and I was glad to have some company. By the time the bus pulled up in front of a building after what seemed like hours, I felt like Joe and I could be friends. Of course, no one could ever replace Soda.

Everyone was led into the building where a man wearing a hat that fell over his eyes was yelling orders. I didn't know half of what he was shouting, so I just did what everyone else did. Which was stand in a long line that was gradually getting shorter. One by one, people passed me with very short hair cuts.

"They're going to cut our hair?" I asked Joe who was standing in front of me.

"Yeah," Joe replied. "Don't worry Steve, it'll grow back."

I resisted the urge to run my hair through my dark hair. My hair was naturally curly and like every other greaser I knew, I was proud of my long hair. Now, they were going to cut it off. I remembered when Ponyboy returned from Windrixville with his hair cut short and bleached. Two-Bit and I had made fun of him. But at least he still had hair long enough to put hair grease in. I was about to have my hair cut so short that I'd probably be better off bald.

"Well, looks like it's my turn," Joe told me.

I watched as they took an electric razor and shaved off Joe's hair. After a few minutes, he got out of the chair and walked past me whispering, "Remember, it'll grow back."

When I sat down in the chair, a towel was thrown over me and it wasn't long before I felt the razor on my head. I watched as my hair fell to the floor. The sound of the razor making me want to cringe as it moved around the back of my head.

"All done!" The person cutting my hair said. "Do you want to see it?""No thanks," I mumbled as I stood up. There was no need to see what my hair looked like on my head. It was all on the floor in dark curly clumps. If I had looked in the small hand mirror that was sitting on the table next to the chair, I think I would have had the urge to cry. I wasn't even in Vietnam yet and I was already wishing that I could go home.


	4. Chapter 4

"Steve, your hair doesn't look that bad," Joe told me later that night after I had finally looked in the mirror.

"My air has never been this short," I said as I absently rubbed the top of my head. My hair was cut very short and I had a hard time believing that it was my reflection I was looking at. It just didn't look like me. "I've never had my hair so short that the curls were gone."

"I kind of figured that when you kept trying to comb your hair in those swirls you had when I met you on the bus," Joe commented.

"I was?" I hadn't noticed. Then again, I combed my hair that way out of habit.

Joe laughed. "Don't worry about it. You'll get used to it in a day or two. Besides,getting our hair cut is nothing compared to what we will be going through. We're going to fight in the war, Steve. Neither of us are guaranteed to make it back."

"Don't remind me," I groaned as I recalled the brief moment of fear in Ponyboy's eyes when I told him that I had been drafted after he had handed me the letter at the DX station. We already knew of a few people who had died in the war. It wasn't exactly fun knowing that you could end up being one of those people.

"When do you think they'll send us over there?" Joe asked as we walked to where our cots were.

"I don't know," I said. "But if my friend's right, we will probably be there in a few weeks. I hope he's wrong."

"Why? You seem like someone who'd enjoy going to the war," Joe commented. "It's almost as if you have all this anger and hatred to get rid of and I'd think that you would be looking forward to going to Vietnam because of it. I know of a few others who would be."

"I do have anger and hatred toward some things," I replied. "My father being one of them. And while I enjoy a good fight; I don't like the idea of killing people. I know what it's like to watch one of your friends get gunned down. I don't want to be the one to kill someone else's friend."

Joe looked at me carefully as he placed a photo of his wife and son under his pillow. "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

"I guess," I replied with a shrug. I went on to tell him everything that had gone on over the past year and a half. Starting with the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis and ending with my fathers trial. I even talked about how my relationship with Ponyboy had changed over the past few months and how I no longer thought of him as a tag along little brat.

"You have been through a lot," Joe commented when I finished. He cleared his throat. "Um, that guy your friend killed, what was his name?"

"Bob Sheldon," I replied. "And I still have a hard time believing that Johnny could kill someone. He was least likely out of all of us to do something like that. Him and Ponyboy."

"Bob was my cousin," Joe told me and my mouth dropped open. "My father and his father are brothers."

"He was your cousin?" I asked. Great, I've made one new friend and he ends up being the cousin of the soc that Johnny had killed.

Joe nodded somberly then grinned. "Relax, I'm not going to decide to get revenge on his behalf. Bob and I were nothing alike. For one thing, I never thought that jumping you greasers was a good idea of a fun time."

"You know us?" I asked.

"Not as well as Bob did," Joe answered. "I'm three years older than you. But I do remember listening to Bob brag about how he cut up your friend's face with his rings. I couldn't believe that he would do something like that and then be proud of it."

"You don't act like a soc," I commented, laying back on my cot.

"I'm not," Joe replied. "I grew up middle class."

"Lights out!" The guy with the hat who had been shouting out orders when we arrived announced. "Wake up call is at five hudred hours."

There were a bunch of groans as the room went dark and I had a feeling that I would need to get as much sleep as possible. In the cot next to me, Joe was already snoring lightly. I listened to the sounds of other guys snoring and a few still whispering to each other as I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

We did end up going through a boot camp before they sent us over seas. Some of the men who had been on the bus with us ended up being sent home because they weren't cut out for the military. However, Joe and I weren't among them. Instead, we found ourselves geting on the plane that would take us over to Vietnam along with around thirty others including a few nurses who looked just as nervous as I felt. Of course, the stories that some of the men on the plane were telling didn't help any. A few of the other soldiers who wee going with us, had already been over there and were trying their best to scare those of us who hadn't.

"Yeah, you'll see people lose arms and legs," One guy told us. "But you'll get used to it."

"We'll also see people die," I pointed out.

"You become numb to that stuff," Another guy who was called Shorty even though he was the tallest one there told me. "And when it comes to the Vietcong, you just don't care. You leave their bodies in the streets all day until night fall until you drag them into the river to rot."

"You're not serious, are you?" A nurse sitting across from me asked. "They're people just like us, don't you have any remorse for them?"

Shorty gave her a sad shake of the head. "At first, you do feel kind of bad about them losing their lives. But then you see all the traps they set for us and remember your fellow soldier who died as a result of one of those traps and you don't care if the Vietcong dies because all you want is for them to experience that same pain that your buddy went through."

I looked at Shorty, thinking about Soda. If I had to watch Soda die because someone had killed him, I'd want to kill the bastard myself. I wondered if maybe Shorty had watched his own best friend get killed while he was over there before.

"Are we going to be fighting as soon as we get there?" Joe asked. He had been listeneing to the conversation as intently as I had been.

Shorty laughed. "I highly doubt it. They'll probably have you guard the base camp at first. But you will end up fighting eventually, everyone does. It's just a matter of when they decide to send you into battle."

"You look to young to be fighting in a war," One of the older nurses said to me. "How old are you, hon?"

"I just turned eighteen," I replied.

"You're not much more than a baby," She commented. "That's what's so sad about this draft. They send young men to the war before they have a chance to really live their lives. I've seen several young men lose their lives already in this war. A few have even died in my arms."

"Why are you going back?" I asked.

"Hon, as much as I hate to see young men such as yourself die before their time, I enjoy trying to help the soldiers. Many more would die if weren't for us nurses. Besides, someone needs to play the role of your mother while your over there, right?" she winked at me and I found myself grinning.

"We all call Esther 'mom'," Shorty explained. "Get to know her. She's probably the only parental figure you'll have over there."

"That's right," Esther agreed. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, just find me."

"I'll do that," I told her.

"Hey Steve, are you up for a game of polker?" Joe asked me.

"Why not?" I asked. "It's still going to be several hours before we get off this plane."

"Deal me in, too," Shorty said, moving over to where Joe and I were sitting. "I like playing a good polker game. You get to play a lot of polker over there when you're not fighting. It keeps you from getting too bored."

"So, why are you going back?" Joe asked him as he dealt out the cards.

"I was only back in the states to attend my grandmother's funeral," Shorty replied. "She had a heart attack."

"So, you should still be over in Vietnam?" I asked.

"That's right," Shorty told me. "But, they were going to move me, anyway. That's something else they do. As soon as you get used to where you're at, they move you to a different location and sometimes, you don't even stay with the same people."

"So, if my friend gets drafted in a few months, he could end up fighting next to me?" I asked as I looked at the cards in my hand.

"There's a slight possibility," Shorty tould me. "But don't count on it. This war covers a pretty good sized territory. You might never see him if he gets drafted with all the men over there."

I laid down my cards and watched as Joe and Shorty laid their cards down, too. I won the hand with a full house. It's too bad that winning at polker was more of a guarantee than what we were about to face. Shorty had already seen what was happening in the war and he had to go back. Joe and I were going for the first and hopefully last time. I didn't want to think about what the war could do to me or worse, what it could do to Soda if he was to get drafted, too.


End file.
